


Welcome to Hawkins PD

by pkg4mumtown



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Age Difference, Crime Scenes, F/M, First Meetings, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV First Person, Reader is a cop, Slow Burn, Smoking, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25620844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pkg4mumtown/pseuds/pkg4mumtown
Summary: You’re a new officer being assigned to Hawkins without being warned of the attractive but grumpy Chief. Rating may change for later chapters.
Relationships: Jim "Chief" Hopper/Reader, Jim "Chief" Hopper/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	1. The New Kid

**Author's Note:**

> Finally got far enough along in writing to post the beginning. First Hopper fic so...yea...let me know what you think!

Chief Hopper slammed the door of his Blazer shut, squinting at brightness of the sun he had underestimated. He set his wide-brimmed hat firmly on his head and slid aviators on his face, all while never dropping the lit cigarette hanging from his lips. He strode over to a white-haired, stocky man who stood just inside the open gates of the Indiana Law Enforcement Academy. The older man gave Hopper a pointed look as he strode through the parking lot.

“C'mon, Hop, no squares on academy grounds,” the man sighed. He wore a tan uniform and wide brimmed drill instructor cover on his head, like the other instructors at the academy

Hopper grimaced around the cigarette, pulling it from his lips and flicking it off to the side, “I’ll pick it up when I leave, Cap.”

The white-haired man shook his head and laughed softly, leading Hopper inside the confines of the academy, “Haven’t been a Captain in years.”

“Bridge, you’ll always be ‘Captain’ to me,” Hopper slapped Bridge on the back. “What do they have you doin’ now?”

“Basic Training Commander,” Bridge winked and tipped his hat.

“Look at you,” Hopper chuckled and shoved Bridge’s shoulder.

They walked in silence for a minute before Hopper finally spoke up, “So, why’d you call me here? I’m betting it wasn’t just to catch up,” Hopper looked over at the shorter man, who sighed.

“Hop…” Bridge started, “…the director, deputy director, and myself have decided to attach another officer to your station.”

Hopper stopped walking all together, giving the man an incredulous glare, “Excuse me?”

“Look, after the lab and Byers fiasco, you’re lucky we're not adding ten times that. It was a shit show and the media were hounding us as to why Hawkins has only six officers, three of which never seem to leave the office,” Bridge stressed. “We had the Roane County Sheriff’s patrolling the town for you and your boys, just to keep the citizens at bay, while you were doing fuck knows what, Jim.”

“While I was _fixing_ the problem,” Hopper growled. “You have no idea what was going on!”

“Why don’t you enlighten me?” Bridge challenged with raised eyebrows.

Hopper ignored him and kept walking with no direction, “And anyway, the lab is empty now.”

“The ratio is still six to thirty thousand people, man. Detroit's ratio is one to four hundred.”

“Detroit is also the ‘Murder Capital’, is it not?” Hopper huffed. “Why’d you call me here, then? You could have told me this over the phone, so I could at least throw something after I hung up on you!” he raised his voice slightly, itching to pull out another cigarette.

Bridge smirked and tilted his head up, indicating Jim to follow him. The sound of gunfire grew louder with every step, telling Hopper that they were heading to the range.

“Thought you might want to check out who we’re assigning to you,” Bridge said as they finally came to a stop.

Below them stood about twenty recruits in unmarked tan uniforms with black ties, which would change according to their departments after they graduated.

“That one,” Bridge pointed to the recruit on the far left, a moderately tall woman with her hair pulled back into a bun. With her strong shoulders and stern expression, she definitely looked like she could hold her own amongst the males in the class.

Hopper tilted his glasses down and scrunched his nose at the brightness, “The girl?”

“Jesus Christ, Hop,” Bridge sighed.

“It was a question!” Hopper retorted back, huffing at Bridge's insinuation.

Bridge rolled his eyes and nodded, “Yea, the female recruit.”

At that moment, one of the drill instructors shouted a nearly indistinct command. It was unintelligible to Hopper’s ears, yet all the recruits responded immediately by clutching their right hands to their chests. Hopper watched, intrigued, as they fired the last of their rounds single handedly. His gaze swept over all the recruits and their targets before focusing back on the female as she shoved the barrel of the revolver between her duty belt and her trousers. Hopper’s expression turned impressed as he peeked over his sunglasses while she flicked open a pouch, retrieved a speed loader, and reloaded before shooting again.

“When did you guys start grading one-armed reloads?” Hopper wondered.

“When we finally got speed loaders that weren’t shit,” Bridge chuckled and shrugged. “Better to make it mandatory so they don’t fumble later.”

Hopper stuck around for a while, to make his trip worthwhile. He watched from a shaded area with Bridge as they started a defensive tactics lesson, always keeping his eye on the girl. He eyed her and a male recruit curiously as they circled one another in a scrimmage. The male was aggressive and lunging in order for her to practice a specific maneuver, which she did fairly well after deflecting some of his hits. The ferocity in which she fought back made Hopper curse under his breath in admiration.

“So, what d'ya think, Hop?”

“Why her?”

Bridge groaned, “Hop…I thought you were better than this!”

“Better than what? I’m just asking why _her_ specifically!” he raised his voice in irritation.

“Because she’s a woman?” Bridge retorted and raised an eyebrow at him.

“No, man, because she actually has skill. Like the Sheriff’s or Trooper material, not for some boring town like Hawkins. I’m just…” Hopper sighed, “I don’t know, it feels like a waste of resources plus she'd be bored off her ass.”

“We don’t decide their departments, Hop, she chose local police over Staties,” Bridge pursed his lips and chuckled to himself.

“What?”

“Maybe she’ll kick your boys into gear. Lord knows, your station could use some energy.”

Hopper just rolled his eyes as the dig.

“Her station request, though, was anywhere but her hometown and we were already planning to add another officer to your station anyway,” Bridge revealed.

“Hmm,” Hopper grunted, “bad family relationship?

“Probably a question for her, not me.”

-

I shrugged on my heavy, oversized, black duffle bag and picked up my equally oversized briefcase before leaving my sleeping quarters for the last time. With my free hand, I pushed my aviators, a graduation gift from my best friend, up the bridge of my nose. Said friend had already departed the premises after the graduation since it was a bit of a drive back to our hometown.

The academy grounds were a sea of uniforms from local police to Sheriff’s deputies to Staties, with various shades of blue and tan. My uniform, however, was the only blue one with a “Hawkins Police Dept.” patch. I didn’t know whether to be disappointed or excited when I found out, since the town had a reputation of being quiet, save for the couple occurrences over the last two years.

I made my way back near the front of the Academy, pushing through the sea of people still lingering while they congratulated the new officers. I peered over people’s shoulders, looking for the exit and finally seeing the open gate. I spied the bus stop just beyond it and stepped into the parking lot, only to be stopped when I heard my name called.

“Y/L/N!”

I snapped my head to the left, seeing Commander Bridge leaning against a Blazer with another tall officer. He waved me over with his hand and said something to the officer. I glanced at the side of the Blazer, my eyes widening when I saw “Chief” in bold print followed by “Hawkins Police Dept.” Not an officer, then.

I stood straighter as I approached my new boss. His all tan uniform was almost form fitting his large frame, while a wide-brimmed hat adorned his head. As I approached, he took his sunglasses off and hung them on his shirt, revealing impossibly bright blue eyes. I let my eyes trail up his form, lingering on his lips pulling in as he took a drag from the cigarette in his mouth.

“Officer Y/L/N, this is your new boss,” Bridge motioned with a wave of his hand.

“Chief Hopper,” the man stuck his hand out. I couldn’t help but rake my eyes over the dark blonde beard adorning his cheeks and framing his lips.

I quickly dropped my briefcase to the ground and stuck my hand out as well, “Officer Y/L/N, sir.”

“Yea,” Hopper chuckled and pointed his thumb at Bridge, “he said that. You can tone it down. Relax, you graduated.”

“Sorry, sir,” I apologized for no reason and paused. “Why are you here?”

“Bridge told me you dormed. Figured you might need a ride into town,” Hopper shrugged.

“Oh, well, you didn’t have to do that. I can take the bus, sir,” I gulped. An hour drive with my new, _very attractive_ , boss? No, thanks.

“Well, I’m already here,” Hopper grunted out a sigh and grabbed my briefcase off the floor.

“Sir, no, I can—” I tried to stop him.

“For the love of God, Y/L/N, take a load off,” Hopper responded, almost annoyed with my behavior. He circled around to the back of the Blazer, “Any family you still have to say ‘bye’ to?”

“No, they didn’t quite approve of my career choice,” I murmured.

Hopper simply grunted as he opened the back hatch of the Blazer and tossed the briefcase not-so-gently in the bed. I shrugged my bag off and did the same, nearly jumping when he slammed it shut.

I turned back to Commander Bridge, offering him a smile and shaking his hand, “Thank you for everything, sir.”

Bridge laughed lowly and shook his head, reciprocating the handshake before slapping my shoulder, “Good luck, kid.”

I nodded and jumped into the passenger side of the Blazer, seeing the two men exchange goodbyes like old pals in the passenger mirror. I shook my leg nervously as the Chief rounded the Blazer and jumped in with a heavy sigh.

An hour drive and I’d already managed to annoy the shit out of him before the trip even started. Great.


	2. Welcome to Hawkins PD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get to know your Chief a bit more as you make your way into Hawkins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t ask me why I’m torturing myself by doing 1st person cover art, now. I have roughly 9 chapters outlined so far and it probably won’t go longer than that. Hope you enjoy!

  
  


The start of the drive was uncomfortably tense. My nervousness was more obvious as I took my sunglasses off, allowing the Chief to see my eyes darting around the cab. I eventually let my gaze focus on the passing trees and forestry, getting lost in the green blur.

“Not too chatty, huh? We’ll get along just fine,” Hopper smirked as he basically asked and answered himself. He glanced at me for any kind of reaction, instead seeing me zoned out, “You okay, kid?”

I hadn’t been intentionally ignoring him but was snapped out of my stupor by the word “kid” hanging in the air.

“Kid?” he asked again.

“I’m not a kid,” I snapped and crossed my arms. I mumbled under my breath, hoping he wouldn’t yell at me as the words left my mouth, “I’m twenty-seven years old for Christ’s sake.”

Hopper simply raised his eyebrows and scoffed, “Sure got the hearing of one.” He tapped his steering wheel rhythmically and pursed his lips, “Twenty-seven, huh?”

“Mhmm, why?”

“Just older than what usually passes through the academy is all,” he shrugged.

“Yea, well, I tried to be a good little secretary and then a telephone operator just like mom and dad said but…” I trailed off.

“But what?”

“I _fucking_ hated it, sir,” I sighed, suddenly remembering my manners. “When I told them I wanted to join a police department, they figured I meant as a secretary or a dispatcher. Imagine their horror when I packed up and told them their little girl was off to be a cop.”

“Old fashioned folks,” Hopper nodded.

“Still not an excuse, sir,” I grumbled.

“You can drop the ‘sir’ act, Y/L/N. You’re not a recruit anymore. ‘Chief’ or ‘Hopper’ work just fine at our station.”

“Sorry, s—Chief,” I murmured.

“It’s fine,” he brushed it off with a wave of his hand. “So, they didn’t come to your graduation?”

“Nope,” I punctuated by popping the “p”.

“Christ, I’m sorry…”

“My best friend came, at least. She got me these,” I smiled, pointing to the glasses that hung from my uniform.

Hopper chuckled at the sight of the glasses mimicking his own, “Yea, that’s a necessary part of the uniform. Next is the hat,” he tilted the brim down and winked.

I let out a not-so-feminine snort as both of our laughter filled the truck. I was worried I’d been too rude before, so I was grateful for the break in tension. I covered my mouth as I laughed, feeling Hopper’s stare as his chest vibrated.

“What?” I asked as I caught him staring instead of paying attention to the empty road.

“Nothin', just the first time I’ve seen you laugh. You’ve been so serious up until now,” he looked away quickly. “It looks good on you, y’know?” he added, his voice barely a murmur.

I felt my face heat up at his words and if his ears were any indication, he was embarrassed as well. I didn’t have to be a detective to see that. I cleared my throat and murmured my thanks before growing silent again.

“So, um, they help you get set up with a place in town already?” Hopper changed the subject.

“Uh, no, I’m gonna stay at a motel for a couple days while I get that and transportation sorted.”

“What!? No, no, no, no,” he replied quickly. “Trust me, you don’t want _any_ part of those motels,” Hopper gave me a terrified glance, like he’d definitely seen some shit there. “I’ve got a trailer I moved out of that you can rent from me.”

“Chief, really, it’s okay. I can—”

“Y/L/N,” he cut me off with a pointed glare. “You can stay there as long as you want or until you find somewhere better. I’m not gonna charge you an arm and a leg for rent,” he reassured me.

“Thanks, I really appreciate that,” I gave him a small smile.

“Hey, I’m not as big a jerk as everyone says I am, alright?” Hopper grumbled.

“Who says that?”

“You’ll see,” he shook his head and sighed. “We can swing by the utilities office when we get there and get everything turned on for ya.”

The rest of the drive managed to fly by as we chatted, nothing too personal and mostly more about me than him. He drove me to the trailer after getting everything sorted out with the utilities and setting me up to make payments. The long driveway to the trailer crunched under his tires but the bumpy ride was worth the view in the secluded area.

“This is it,” he grunted as he put the Blazer in park.

“This view is great, why’d you move?” I asked as I took in the surroundings and spotted the lake behind the trailer.

“Eh, it’s just too small,” he motioned towards his torso with his hand.

I rose an eyebrow at him, letting my gaze land on his torso, flick over to the trailer, and back over to his face, “You’re not _that_ big.”

“You know,” he started with a mischievous grin as he opened the driver’s side door, “a less secure man would have taken offense to that.”

“Chief!” was all I could manage to berate him with as he turned away from me and broke out in to laughter.

We jumped out of the truck at the same time and this time I didn’t protest when he offered to help me with my bags. His keys jingled softly as he stomped up the stairs and unlocked the door to the trailer. Hopper and his obscenely thick fingers fought with the keyring for a moment before finally freeing the key and handing it over to me.

“Here,” he murmured and held the metal between two fingers, effectively dwarfing the key, “and there’s a spare key under the first step,” he nodded outside.

Hopper took a couple spins around the living room and sniffled loudly, “Little musty, sorry. Um, I left quite a few things here, so it might just need some picking up and dusting. I kinda moved in a hurry.”

“It’s not a problem, it’ll give me something to do, Chief,” I reassured him.

We fell into an awkward silence, causing Hopper to step semi-discreetly to the door. He fished his pockets for his business card as he spoke, “Well, uh, if you need anything…”

I graciously accepted the card from him, “Actually, Chief, d'ya happen to have a map on you? So, I can figure my way around this place by Monday?”

“Shit, what am I thinking?” Hopper murmured to himself, realizing he’d just dropped me off seemingly in the middle of nowhere without a sense of direction. His brows knitted together in thought, making his thinking face look angry, “I can show you around right now if you want? Maybe grab lunch while we’re at it as a…congrats?” His lips pushed up and his eyes squinted as he waited for my answer.

“You don’t have to do that, really. I’m sure you have better things to do on a Saturday,” I tried to refuse. “I can manage with just a map.”

“My daughter is at her friend’s house, so I would either sit at the station bored off my ass or drink myself to sleep at home,” Hopper pursed his lips and feigned thinking with his hands on his hips, “Or I can give you a welcome tour.”

I laughed at this ridiculous man and his antics and finally relented, “Fine, but let me change at least.”

Hopper agreed and showed me the rest of the trailer. It was hard not to imagine this hulking man living in this tight trailer as he effortlessly stalked through the rooms. I could almost see his body engulfing the small couch or his broad shoulders bumping walls when he’d get drunk. The tour ended in the bedroom with a bare mattress and the floor littered with the odd empty pack of cigarettes. I tossed my duffel on the bed and started sifting through the civilian clothes I had packed. I heard Hopper open the closet and make a low noise of surprise.

“Hey, I left clothes here,” he held up a red flannel shirt from the closet, which contained a couple pairs of pants and a few random shirts. “A change wouldn’t hurt, nothing happens on the weekends,” Hopper brought the shirt to his nose and grimaced, but shrugged and piled it in one arm anyway. “If this shit gets in your way, feel free to throw it in a bag and chuck it in my office.”

I had pulled out jeans, a shirt, and a sweater and laid them on the bed. By the time Hopper turned back around with his findings, I had halfway unbuttoned my uniform shirt without thinking twice.

“Woah, woah, _woah_!” Hopper held up his free hand to his eyes right away. “At least let me leave first, Y/L/N! For Pete's sake…” Hopper felt his way out of the room, nearly tripping when his foot caught on the threshold.

As we got back in the Blazer, Hopper chucked his uniform in the back seat. He fetched a pack of Camels from his pocket and held them up in question.

“Mind?”

“Not if I can bum one off you, Chief,” I smirked, grabbing my bun and releasing my hair from its confines. I slipped my hair tie around my wrist and shook my hair out, not really caring how it looked, only that my scalp could breathe.

The corner of Hopper’s mouth turned up before he was shaking the box and pulling out a cigarette. He let it rest between his lips, then turned the box toward me so I could grab one for myself.

“First things first,” he mumbled around the cigarette while lighting it. I leaned my head forward as he brought the lighter towards me. After, I leaned back in my seat, hearing the snap of the lighter closing before I saw his hand extending towards me. “Jim,” his lips closed loosely to avoid dropping the cigarette as he waited with an open palm.

I shook his offered hand, fighting the urge explore the ridges of his palm, “Y/N.”

We took off in the direction of town, silently filling the Blazer with smoke. I tried my best to memorize my surroundings as Hopper pointed out different stores and buildings. He rambled about the owners of certain places, far more than just a Chief might know.

“You grow up here?” I wondered aloud.

“Yea,” he let out a silent laugh, releasing smoke from his lungs as he did. “Moved back about six years ago or so. Good catch.”

We pulled into the diner parking lot, just as my cigarette reached its end, “Damn, I’m sad that’s gone,” I spoke mainly to myself.

“Yea, Bridge got mad at me for trying to bring one when I visited ILEA a month back. How long were you deprived?” Hopper joked while getting out of the car.

“Mm, four months and change,” I answered slowly as if I was unsure.

“Ouch,” he grimaced and stepped ahead of me to open the diner door like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I pushed down my tendency to blush but failed, instead using my hair to block my cheeks from Hopper's eyes. What can I say? I had a thing for old fashioned manners.

He nodded a silent greeting to a waitress and made a beeline for an empty booth, because I guess when you’re the Chief you can just do that. After receiving an odd look from the waitress as we ordered drinks and more stares from women in the diner, I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. The waitress came back around to take our food orders and drop off our drinks, my drink earning me a mocking eyebrow from Hopper.

“Milkshake? Really?” he choked out a laugh around his cup of coffee.

“ _Excuse me_ , I’m still allowed the rest of the day to celebrate, Chief,” I replied with an air of pride and a smidgen of sass as I wrapped my lips around the straw.

“You’re right, you’re right,” he chuckled and shook his head, staring down at his coffee and then glancing out the window in a quick canvas.

“Thank you, though,” I started, causing him to meet my eyes. “Thank you for celebrating with me when my own family wouldn’t.”

Hopper swirled his coffee before speaking, “Guess you could say…we’re your family, now.” He raised the mug up and toward me, so I did the same with my glass. He tapped our glasses together in a toast and let a satisfied smile spread over his lips, “Welcome to Hawkins PD.”

I nodded enthusiastically and brought the straw back to my mouth, “Yea, I'll drink to that.”

I sipped on the shake, casually glancing around the dining area and seeing quickly averted eyes. I chewed my straw and furrowed my brows in thought. I’d been silently pondering for so long that I hadn’t realized Hopper was watching the wheels turn in my head.

“What’s up?”

“Mm,” I made a noise indicating I’d heard him as I swallowed. “Why am I being stared at by every woman here?”

“Well,” he cleared his throat, “Small town, new face…women gossip, is the first reason.”

“And the second?”

Hopper took a deep breath through his nose, “Remember when I said that everyone thinks I’m a jerk?”

I simply nodded in understanding.

“Well, ‘everyone’ meant…women.”

We sat in silence for a few seconds while his words washed over me. My eyebrows flew up as I realized what he meant while my hand moved to hide my laughter.

“No!” I gasped in amused shock behind my hand as I deciphered his words.

“Yeah,” he rubbed his brow and grimaced at my shocked face.

I leaned forward on my elbows, smiling widely. His playfully forlorn face told me he knew I’d figured it out and was waiting for the impending grief I was going to lay on him. “Chief…you’re a slut?” I couldn’t hold back the giggle that escaped my lips.

“Correction, I used to be a slut, alright?” he rolled his eyes. “I stopped when I adopted my daughter.”

“Mhmm,” I raised an eyebrow at him as if I didn’t believe him.

“I’m serious!”

After eating, fighting over paying for lunch (a fight he won), and taking me to the grocery store (yet another fight he won), we pulled up to the trailer. Hopper helped me take the bags inside and lingered in the living room.

“If I have any questions,” I showed him the map I stole from his Blazer, “I’ll call you.”

“I’ll keep an ear out,” he smirked and opened the trailer door.

I held the door open as he walked out, stopping when I spoke up, “Wish me luck buying my own car tomorrow.”

Hopper stopped in his tracks and turned around, “What were you gonna do? Walk to the dealership?”

“Uh, bus?”

“No,” he shook his head, turned, and kept walking, “I’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow.”

“Chief!” I protested, but he kept walking to his Blazer.

“They’re less likely to haggle you if the Chief of Police is there, alright!?” he shouted back, not giving me another chance to speak as he got in the truck.

Hopper stuck his arm out of the window, offering a passive wave of his hand and a smile as he turned the truck around. I leaned against the doorframe and waved back, wondering how in the hell I was supposed to survive a career next to Jim Hopper.


	3. Men’s Room ‘n’ Muffins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your first day as one of Hawkin’s finest could have been worse, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never really gave you guys a timeline for this fic, so I’m imagining it about a month or so after Season 2. So, it’s roughly two weeks into December. This one is a bit longer, so enjoy!

  
  
I wouldn’t have minded sleeping on the bare mattress, the first day, if it wasn’t thirty degrees that night. In hindsight, I should have prepared to be on my own in December, but we hadn’t really needed heavy coats in the academy the past four months. A sweatshirt and layers in October and November had been enough with how much we were moving. I had bundled up my sweatshirt to use as a pillow, threw on sweats, thick socks, and my sweater but was still cold due to the thin walls of the trailer. I had glanced at the closet, remembering that Hopper said he had clothes in there. I bit the bullet and pulled one of his large, heavy flannels off its hanger and used it as a blanket. If he ever found out I’d slept with it, I’d be mortified.

As promised, Hopper took me to the dealership and supervised the salesman. It didn’t take much for Hopper to intimidate him, just flashes of glares as the salesman spoke to me about the cars. He would nervously glance at the Chief every now and then, which was amusing in itself. At the end of the day, Hopper’s presence even got the guy to shave off a few bucks. After that, we had bid each other goodbye while I set about buying out all the blankets at the nearest store.

-

Monday morning, I was up by six and out the door before seven. I prayed that the long sleeve I wore under my uniform would be enough when paired with thick socks and gloves for the temperature high of forty today. I turned my nose up at the thought of putting my academy sweatshirt over my uniform, but did it anyway. I’d rather get in trouble with Hopper and not be freezing, than the alternative.

I arrived at the station at seven sharp, seeing an older lady opening the front door as I pulled up. I got out of my car, slinging a small bag with a towel, running shoes, and a change of clothes over my shoulder in case I had time for a run before the others arrived.

“Can I help you with that, ma’am?” I asked, hoping she couldn’t hear my teeth chatter.

“Ah, Officer Y/L/N, I assume?” she questioned and shoved her purse in my arms while fiddling with the keys in her gloved hands.

“Yes, ma’am,” I nodded, shaking ever so slightly.

“Call me Flo, dear,” she smiled, finally getting the door open. She took her purse back from me, feeling my hand lightly shake as she did. “Oh, you poor thing, come here. The Chief put some essentials on order for you when you got assigned to us.”

Flo led me to a back room, my body rejoicing when I saw a heavy blue jacket with the Hawkins patch on it, among other items like extra uniforms and PT clothes. She handed them all over to me and showed me to my desk.

“We’re a pretty lax station here, but definitely change out of that thing before Hopper comes in,” she patted my shoulder, referring to the grass-stained academy sweatshirt.

“Of course,” I nodded. “I was actually hoping you could show me to the lockers, Flo. I’m itching for a run.”

“In this weather?”

“Nothin’ like a run to warm up,” I raised my eyebrows but she looked unamused.

She scrunched up her face, “Well, we technically only have lockers and showers in the men’s bathroom, but no one uses them.” She thought for a second before leading me over to said bathroom, “I’ll make sure to tell the boys, so they’re not surprised. The other officers won’t be in for at least another hour, and Hop…well…maybe he’ll be on time for once for your first day. You have some time to kill.”

Flo patted my shoulder and left me to my own devices. Near the entry of the bathroom were the urinals, while deeper into the bathroom had four lockers on either side of a long bench and ended with two open showers.

I chose a locker and changed quickly into my sweats, sweatshirt, and running shoes. I elected to keep my gloves on because I’m not _that_ crazy. I walked back out to the bullpen and stretched lightly near the door, preparing myself to brave the cold again.

“I’ll be back by,” I paused to look at my watch, “eight at the latest.”

“Good luck,” Flo murmured as she wrote.

The first few minutes absolutely sucked as my body fought to warm up but I was able to push through it eventually. I didn’t go down too many streets to avoid getting lost on my first day, but that didn’t mean I was stared at any less. As business owners opened up shop, I felt eyes on me from all directions assessing who I was. I smiled as nicely as I could but between running and the cold air, there was only so much friendliness I could accomplish.

I arrived back at the station a few minutes before I said I would, seeing a couple more cars parked alongside the cruisers. The Chief’s truck was still absent, so it was safe to assume Flo was right and he’d be late.

Two officers were inside chatting with their feet propped up on their desks when I walked in. They glanced up at the sound of my entrance, obviously intrigued at the unfamiliar face.

“Can I hel—” one officer with glasses started as he stood up from his desk.

“Officer Y/L/N,” I stuck my hand out.

“Ah, the newbie,” the other officer chimed in while leaning further back in his chair.

“Callahan,” the first officer replied and shook my hand.

“Powell,” the other waved.

“If you don’t mind, I’m gonna shower,” I nodded toward the bathrooms.

“Flo already warned us, you’ve got it to yourself for the next fifteen,” Powell gestured behind him.

The shower was surprisingly not terrible and the water was warmer than the air outside, so I could hardly complain. I kept nervously glancing to the front of the bathrooms, hoping everyone had gotten the memo. I showered as quickly as possible, so I could get back to my desk before Hopper showed up.

As it would happen, the Chief was in at a decent time, for once. He was still late, but definitely not as late as usual. He stormed into the bullpen, making a beeline for the coffee and donuts, and grumbling when he saw a lack of donuts.

“Chief—”

“Flo!? Where are my donuts?” he complained loudly, even though she was right behind him.

She rolled her eyes and pushed an apple into his hand, having had it waiting especially for him.

Hopper turned up his nose at the fruit and grumbled to himself. He spun around while taking a bite of the fruit, eyeing my desk and pointing with the same hand that held the apple, “She here?”

“Yes, but—”

“Good,” he said around a mouthful of apple. “I gotta take a leak,” he took another huge bite and chucked the rest into a nearby trash can.

“Chief!” Flo called out.

“It can wait until after I _pee_ , Flo, jeez,” Hopper mumbled while chewing and walked away.

“Chief, wait!” Powell called after him.

“Am I speaking English?” Hopper called over his shoulder as he took long strides toward the bathroom.

“Chief—” Callahan caught up to him and tried to cut him off but was pushed aside by a single, strong shoulder.

Hopper grabbed him by the shoulders and put himself between Callahan and the bathroom door, “Are you gonna watch me take a piss, Cal?”

“No, sir, but—”

“ _Good_ ,” Hopper smiled sarcastically. He pushed the bathroom door open and slammed it in Callahan’s face.

“Fuck's sake,” Hopper grumbled as he stood in front of a urinal.

The seemingly quiet bathroom echoed the sound of Hopper's zipper. I panicked as I stared at his back with only socks and underwear on under my towel. I tried to dress quietly as the sound of his bodily function echoed in the otherwise empty room. I managed to get my uniform pants on, but mistakenly left the belt in when I changed earlier. The clank was noticeable enough for Hopper to look over his shoulder.

“Someone in here?” he called out.

I squeaked, shoved feet into my boots, and grabbed my long-sleeved undershirt, barely having it over my head and around my neck when Hopper zipped up and turned around.

“God dammit!” he shouted, “What are you doing!?”

“Sh—shower, Chief,” I stumbled over my words, fumbling with the sleeves as I hurriedly stuck my arms in so I could cover my bra.

Annoyed, Hopper sighed heavily and stalked over to the sink and washed his hands, “Does the one in the trailer not work?”

“No, it does. I just…it's just I got here early and went for a run…”

Hopper came back into view after drying his hands, my undershirt finally in place while I unhooked my uniform shirt from the hanger.

“This is the _men’s_ room,” Hopper stressed, his hands on his hips and his mouth a tight-lipped line.

I held my shirt in front of me, “If we had women’s showers, this wouldn’t be a problem...” I murmured softly, not sure how he’d respond to me effectively talking back.

Hopper sighed once more, running a thumb and forefinger along his brow and gripping tightly. He made no move to leave, however.

I pursed my lips and couldn’t stop the next words from tumbling out of my mouth, “Are you paying for a show? Or…?” I trailed off while sliding my uniform shirt over one arm, then the other.

Hopper dropped his hand in exasperation, staring me down with a, what can only be described as murderous, glare, “You remember I’m your boss, right?”

I let out giggle as I buttoned up my shirt and tucked it in, “I’m joking, Chief.” I fastened my belt, then pulled out a small brush to fix my hair. I walked briskly over to the only mirror in that bathroom, right above the sink, having to pass an agitated, yet amused Hopper. “You should come with me next time,” I offered, while tying up my hair into a bun.

“What are you trying to say?” he pretended to be offended while gesturing to his stomach, throwing his weight onto one leg and tweaking his hip out. His thumbs hooked into his belt loops, framing his crotch without actually meaning to.

I looked at his form in the mirror, laughing and shaking my head. “That you should join me next time. Y’know, lead by example,” I teased. I walked past him again, lifting my foot up to rest on the bench so I could tie my boots.

“Oooh, ouch, yea,” Hopper squinted at me and bit his bottom lip. “I think I like spending my mornings with a coffee and donut, thanks.

I stood up straight, finally done getting dressed given the distraction Hopper provided. I slammed the locker shut and locked the padlock before walking towards Hopper. I used that stretch of space to fasten my duty belt and clip my radio onto my shoulder.

“Plus,” he gestured to the wide-open view of the showers from any angle due to a lack of curtains, “What are we gonna do? Shower at the same time? You’re crazy if you think I’m gonna waste precious coffee and contemplation time waiting for you to finish in the shower.”

“Yea, the invitation did _not_ extend past running, Chief,” I scrunched up my nose. Except, I really wouldn’t mind if it did. I took a step towards the bathroom door and spun back around, nearly getting run over by Hopper as he tried to bulldoze me out. “ _But,_ if we hung curtains in here…” I raised my eyebrows, “…it could work.”

Hopper closed his eyes and let out a heavy groan, “Just do me a favor and get to work, please.”

“Yes, sir,” I gave him a two fingered salute and made my way to my desk.

I sat at my desk, inserting myself into a conversation with Callahan and Powell quite easily. Hopper poured himself a coffee and was about to round the corner to hide in his office when Flo called him yet again.

“Chief!”

“For the love of…” He sighed heavily, “Are my mornings not sacred anymore, Flo?”

“Vandalism at Vicki’s Bakery!”

Hopper let out a dramatic groan and spun on his heel to enter the bullpen again.

“Urgent, Hopper!”

Grumbling, he downed his coffee and slammed it next to the coffee maker, “Y/L/N, let’s go!”

I scrambled to my feet, barely catching my new jacket as Hopper chucked it at me from the coat hanger. He grabbed his hat and jacket as I caught up, and put them on before reaching the door.

“If we’re lucky, we’ll get free muffins,” Hopper raised his eyebrows and hummed at the thought.

I scrunched my brows at him in disbelief and pushed the station doors open. The ride to the bakery took all of two minutes, then we were pulling up to an empty spot directly in front of the shop.

“Jesus,” Hopper murmured, seeing the front and side glass windows all broken with multiple gaping holes in each.

“What in the world…” I got out of the Blazer quickly, seeing a lady in an apron through the broken glass. She had a broom leaned up against the glass display case, but seemingly had yet to use it. I glanced up, seeing a camera mounted and facing the door.

We stepped as delicately as possible, into the bakery, to avoid making a bigger mess than there already was.

“Hey, Vick,” Hopper greeted.

“Been a while since you’ve been in here, Hopper,” the older lady greeted him.

“Yea, Flo's been on my case,” he rolled his eyes and pulled his notepad out of his pocket. “This is Officer Y/L/N,” he tilted his head in my direction.

“Mornin, ma’am,” I nodded.

“Hi, dear,” she greeted warmly, contrasting the image of the broken glass around her.

Hopper started taking her statement while I examined the broken glass. There were numerous bricks that were assumed to be what had been thrown through the windows, but one of them caught my eye. I noticed paint on one side and tipped the brick over with my foot, before crouching down.

“Shit,” I murmured, reading the homosexual slur deliberately written on it.

I curiously revisited the rest of the bricks and found more slurs. I glanced at Hopper to get his attention but he was still talking to Vicki. I looked around the bakery, seeing clusters of pictures throughout. I examined each one carefully, finally walking over to a wall near the front counter, seeing pictures of Vicki at Pride marches. I was interrupted by Hopper’s heavy footsteps coming up behind me.

“Thoughts?” He questioned me while sliding his pen back into his shirt pocket.

“Hate crime,” I answered, turning to face him.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, just go look at the bricks, Chief,” I pointed with my thumb.

He stood over one of the bricks and squinted at the lettering, “Yea, sounds about right,” he sighed. “Too bad we don’t have hate crime laws, we’ll only get them on criminal mischief.”

“The damage is pretty significant though,” I glanced around the shop, “Easily a ‘Class A’ misdemeanor.”

“This much glass isn’t cheap,” Hopper agreed.

“Do you have the tapes for that camera outside, ma’am?” I turned and asked her.

“Of course, come on back.”

She led us to a back room and played through the footage from last night. I watched in amusement as Hopper had to bend over to get a better view of the screen.

“Pause it there,” Hopper pointed to the screen.

The screen paused on a figure approaching the bakery with an armful of bricks at two in the morning. Hopper squinted and told her to keep playing the video, trying to see if he recognized the man. At some point the man looked down the street, in the direction of the camera.

“Stop, stop, stop,” Hopper said quickly. “Got him.”

“You recognize him?” I squinted.

“The town asshole,” Vicki muttered.

“Mason Thomas,” Hopper finished. “You’ll get to know his face. He’s in and out of prison all the damn time. He was in middle school right before I graduated high school, always had a rep for bad behavior. Teachers caught him smoking all the time, even pulled a knife on a kid once or twice in the schoolyard.”

“What the hell?” I wondered out loud.

“Yea,” Hopper grunted as he stood up straight, “and apparently homophobic.”

“Let’s go get this jerk,” I tapped the desk and started walking out of the room.

We walked back out to the main area as we wrapped up with Vicki. I was already making my way to the front door when I didn’t hear Hopper following me.

“Can you ring me up a muffin, Vick?” he asked her as I turned around, looking at him like he was insane. “Muffin?” he asked me, pointing at the assortment.

“Criminal,” I pointed at the Blazer with my thumb over my shoulder, really wanting to just leave so we could get this guy.

“Throw another one in there, I’ll convince her,” he said matter-of-factly to Vicki and gave her an exaggerated wink.

Hopper pulled out his wallet as he waited, caught off guard when Vicki slid a box of four muffins and two coffees in front of him.

“On the house,” she pushed Hopper’s hand away.

“Nah, Vick, come on. The damages are gonna cost you,” he pointed to the windows.

“That’s what insurance is for, Hop,” she waved him off. “Just go get the guy, that’s payment enough.”

“You got it,” Hopper smirked, flipping up the lid of the box, and shoving a muffin between his teeth.

“Thank you,” I smiled at Vicki, taking one of the coffee cups.

Hopper shoved the box of muffins in my arms and turned me around with two fingers in my back, “Let’s go,” he said incoherently around the bread.

When we got inside the Blazer, I watched him eat the entire second half of the muffin in one bite. I stared at him in horrified amusement as he chewed on the dense bread. I pulled the tab back on my coffee lid and sipped it delicately to judge the temperature. Hopper grabbed his, roughly ripping the tab off and bringing the coffee to his lips without any sense of caution. He closed his eyes and let the coffee wash the muffin down, finally noticing me staring at him.

“What? Three bites of an apple was _not_ breakfast,” he defended himself. He brought the cup back to his mouth, licking the coffee near the opening and stopping, “Eat one, seriously.”

I almost didn’t hear him as I focused on his tongue lapping the coffee on the lid before finally taking a gulp. I nearly choked on my own coffee at the sight. He raised his eyebrows at me as he grabbed a second muffin, so I humored him and grabbed one as we drove off. I finished it by the time Hopper pulled over on a residential street and took a swig of coffee to clear my mouth.

The Chief jumped out of his truck with a grunt, hiding a soft burp behind his palm. We strode up to an unkempt house with our hands braced on our belts out of habit.

“Police!” Hopper pounded on the front door with a closed fist and upon no answer, he repeated the action again while trying to listen intently to what was happening inside.

“Mason! Open up!” Hopper beat against the door harder.

I heard a scraping sound from the side of the house, making me lean over the side of the porch to take a glimpse. I watched Mason fall to the ground from his window and scramble quickly to his feet in a full sprint.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake…” Hopper sighed as he watched Mason take off.

I vaulted over the railing, nearly tripping from the momentum forward as I landed.

“Y/L/N! Wait!” Hopper called after me as he took the easier route down the stairs of the porch.

“I got it, Chief!” I yelled over my shoulder.

I chased after Mason, considerably easier for me in actual treaded shoes while he attempted to run in flip-flops. Before I could gain too much on him, he tripped over a crack in the pavement and rolled. The forward momentum helped him to spring back on his feet quickly but by then I was right behind him.

Mason threw a wobbly punch as he turned around to face me, thankfully still recovering his balance from the fall. I used his own energy to guide the punch and turn him around while grabbing his wrist. I pulled his hand behind his back, twisting his arm when he resisted and tried to pull out of my grip. I couldn’t hear Hopper yet and Mason had yet to stop fighting me, so I jabbed the back of his knees with the toe of my boot and yanked down so he’d fall on his ass. I maneuvered him onto his stomach and was finally able to get my cuffs out as Hopper approached in a jog, slightly out of breath. I had just finished spouting off the Miranda rights as Hopper stood over us, hands on his hips and chest heaving while catching his breath.

“Good thing _one_ of us runs, huh, Chief?” I grinned while slapping one of the cuffs on.

“Shut up and cuff him,” Hopper rolled his eyes.

“This mean you’ll run with me in the mornings?” I asked while fastening the last cuff.

“Not a chance,” he chuckled, holding out a hand to help me up. He pulled me until I was standing, hurriedly grabbing my upper arms as I swayed forward from the force. I grabbed his forearms as an immediate response, trying not to imagine how they’d feel without his heavy jacket and long sleeve. I cleared my throat and stepped back, narrowly avoiding stepping on Mason.

Mason mumbled angrily, under his breath, as Hopper yanked him to his feet and shoved him forward as an indication to walk. We took a leisurely walk back to the Blazer with Mason being dragged along. Hopper tried to burp discreetly but underestimated the force and glanced sheepishly my way.

“Shouldn’t have had that second muffin, Chief,” I laughed behind my hand as I verbally jabbed at him, feeling his glare instantly.

“Oh, this’ll be the last time I share _anything_ with you, ya brat,” he scoffed and bumped me with his large arm.

We loaded Mason into the back seat of the Blazer through the passenger side, shoving him not so gently all the way in. I flipped the seat back to its normal position and climbed into the truck, landing in the seat with a heavy sigh. Hopper was already in the driver’s seat with his hat sitting on the dashboard as he waited for me. He started the truck and took off while I pondered over a silly idea that popped into my head.

I stuck my tongue out slightly, glancing at the side of his face. I snagged his hat off the dashboard and plopped it on my head, grinning as he scowled at me.

“I think I earned this now, don’t you, Chief?” I bit my bottom lip, trying to hide my giddy smile.

Hopper’s eyes dropped down to my mouth and back up to my eyes quickly. He squinted at me but couldn’t hold his demeanor together and chuckled while looking back at the road, “I’ll think about it.”


	4. Eyes n’ Thighs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After one too many accidental shower incidents, you’re determined to hang some curtains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you believe that I did the art before I even wrote this chapter? Lol

  
After a couple more shower mishaps over the week, I finally decided it was time to hang some curtains in the bathroom. The mishaps, while humiliating on my end were also exhilarating considering they were all to do with Hopper. One of these included Hopper having to throw me my towel that I’d left on my desk, with me trying to cover myself in the tiny shower. If I saw a glimpse of his eye between his fingers as they covered his face, I saved him the embarrassment and didn’t mention it.

When my shift was over, I just about ran out of the station to get in my car and make it to the hardware store before they closed. I had found a drill and drill bit set that Hopper left in his trailer, so I counted my lucky stars that I didn’t have to buy one. I managed to find some hooks and curtains that should suffice for the bathroom. There was no way this quick job was going to be anything fancy.

I couldn’t have been gone from the station for more than half an hour, but when I pulled up, everyone’s car was gone except for Hopper's. The few days I’d been here, I noticed he tended to leave later than everyone else, but I didn’t bother pressing him about it. I hauled the necessary equipment into the bathroom, trying not to disturb him with too much noise as I did.

I set up the tallest step ladder I could find at the trailer, hoping my height would be enough. I unbuttoned my uniform shirt and shrugged it off, leaving me in my long sleeve undershirt, which would offer more mobility. I did the same with my duty belt and set both items out of harm’s way. I roughly marked, with a pencil, where I was going to drill the holes for the hooks before readying the drill. As I marked, I knew this wasn’t going to be safe as I stood on my tippy toes to touch the ceiling.

I slid on a pair of safety glasses I’d found, so as not to get anything in my eyes and started climbing the wobbly ladder with the drill in hand. I lined up the drill bit with the mark, trying to balance on my tippy toes to get enough pressure to push into the drill. Before I could press the trigger, a deep, surprised voice caught me off guard.

“What in the hell!?” I heard Hopper’s voice echo in the bathroom.

In my state of unbalance on my toes, the step ladder wobbled ominously as I jumped. Hopper leaped forward, grabbing my hips with both hands, and stepping on the bottom step to steady the ladder. I gulped, feeling his firm grip tighten each time the step ladder wobbled. I crouched down to lower my center of gravity, inadvertently pushing my ass towards his face which was confirmed by the grunt he made. As soon as I was steady, he released me and let me step down on to solid ground.

“Hey, Chief,” I stammered, still rattled from almost falling.

I faced him, seeing his arms folded tightly across his chest in annoyance at having to catch me.

“You could have asked for help, you know,” Hopper sighed loudly. “I don’t need you hurting yourself before the end of your first week.”

“I don’t need help, sir, I can do it,” I rolled my eyes.

Hopper quirked his eyebrow at me, having noticed the eye roll, making me look away quickly. I heard him grumble under his breath as his hands began to unbutton his uniform shirt and tossed it on the bench. My eyes were glued to his hands as he pulled his sleeves up to his forearms. Hopper stuck out his hand, looking pointedly at the drill. He took his hat off and tossed it on top of my duty belt before snatching the drill from my hand.

“That stool is in really bad shape, Chief,” I cringed as he climbed to the second step.

“It’s a good thing I don’t have to go as high as you, then, huh?” he grunted, angling his body so he could line the drill up.

“Oh, wait!” I stopped him before he pressed the trigger. I stuck out the safety goggles, which he stared at like I’d just offered him a steaming pile of shit.

“Men don’t wear safety goggles,” he looked at me in disbelief, like I should have known.

“Men who want to keep their eyeballs do,” I rolled my eyes yet again, earning me another warning glare.

“Uh-huh,” he dismissed me, looking back up at the ceiling and readying himself again. He pressed the trigger and squinted, making a hole in the plaster quickly.

Hopper made quick work of the hooks, having almost all of them up within a few minutes. As he drilled the last hole, he had to force the drill bit back out when he felt it get stuck. A frown worked its way onto his features as he yanked down on the drill and finally pulled it from the ceiling. As a result of the thread ripping through the plaster, particles came flying from the hole and flew directly into his face.

“Son of a bitch!” he yelped, his free hand immediately flying to his eyes as he took a hesitant step down the stepladder.

I ran up behind him, immediately helping him down and shoving him toward one of the two showers. He tried to plant himself before we approached the shower head, but I gave him one more shove, so he was under the metal protrusion. I turned the water on, not bothering to check how cold it was before pushing his upper back so his head would be under the spray. He let out a frustrated growl as the icy water hit his face, but let it wash over his eyes anyway.

“Fuck,” he groaned, rubbing his eyes slightly.

“Don’t do that,” I batted his hands away, getting my own hands wet in the process. I heard him take in a frustrated breath, clearly unhappy with the entire situation. “Open your eyes,” I murmured, trying to see around the water.

“Gee, I didn’t think of that,” he replied sarcastically through a mouthful of water. “I wish I could.”

I leaned around him, finally able to see his twitching eyelids, so I used a finger to push the skin below his eye down so that at least some water would help wash out the plaster. When he was through with my prying, he slapped the faucet handle and turned the water off abruptly. He yanked himself away from me and started stalking back to where his belongings were.

“Chief, wait! Just sit down,” I called after him.

“I’m fine,” he replied in a terse, annoyed tone, lifting his arm up to wipe his face with his plaster dusted sleeve.

“ _Jim_ ,” I responded forcefully, gripping his wrist in a vice grip before his arm could touch his face.

His jaw clenched, his cheeks and ears red in what looked like anger but could have just as easily been in embarrassment. His eyes fluttered open slightly, the whites of his eyes turned pink from his not-so-gentle rubbing. His hooded gaze stared me down as he ground his jaw and inhaled loudly but relented and finally sat on the bench. He moved to wipe his face again after sitting, earning a slap on the back of his hand.

I quickly yanked open my locker an grabbed a clean washcloth to dry his face with. I strode back over to him on a mission, purposely bumping my knee against his so he’d spread his legs. I batted his hands away impatiently, feeling too much like I was taking care of temperamental child. I dried the skin around his eyes, then brought my thumbs to his face with the intention to gently pull skin away from his eyes so they’d open wider. He grimaced at the gesture and pulled his head away sharply, making me grab the sides of his face so he’d stop. I moved so fast that I leaned too far forward and nearly fell on him, only stopped by his hands grabbing the tops of my thighs and pushing slightly. I gulped and paused for a second, but when I realized he didn’t plan on moving his hands from me, I took a shaky breath and carried on.

I opened each eye carefully and examined it. “Look up,” I murmured, feeling his fingers tighten around my thighs briefly. “Down,” I instructed, trying to ignore the tingle of his thumb brushing ever so slightly across the material of my trousers. “Good, all good,” I sighed, thankful nothing was damaged but also inadvertently responding to his touch.

“Yea?” he murmured, blinking a few times after I let go of his face.

I placed my hands on his shoulders, knowing I should just back away and hang the curtains, but I didn’t _want_ to move. His eyes bored back into mine for a few tense moments before he realized what he was doing and dropped his hands. He cleared his throat and stood quickly, making me stumble back as his body straightened and pushed me out of his space.

“I’ve gotta go get my kid,” he mumbled, grabbing his belongings, and storming out of the bathroom.

I watched him go and gulped at all these feelings rushing through my head. _I did not have feelings for my boss._ I repeated this in my head over and over while finishing my task of hanging curtains. There was no way I could have feelings for this grumpy jerk, right?


	5. We’re Your Family Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get to the station early one morning and are met with a pleasant surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *drags self to computer to post this* I’ve literally worked on this one word a day since the last chapter. At least it feels like that. I either catch up on work and neglect art/writing or neglect work and have to work weekends. RIP. More soft shit, they’re still being chickens lol.

Over the weekend, I busied myself by making the trailer more homely and tried not to think about my boss or whatever had happened in the bathroom. I almost dreaded seeing his grumpy face at work on Monday, but then again, his face seemed to always be like that.

As was usual all week, I got to the station early for my run except I was far less cold than my first day. I let my mind wander as I watched the puffs of warm air leave my lips, letting myself fall into a trance to ignore the pain in the lower half of my body. I cut the run short as the cold air started to burn my lungs and spotted the Chief’s Blazer as I approached the station. I slowed my steps down as his truck door opened and he stepped out in Hawkins PD sweatpants and a jacket, not unlike myself.

A small smirk graced his lips as I approached, soon hidden by his mustache and coffee cup. He furrowed his brows as I headed for the front door, calling out my name to stop me.

“Hey, wait,” he called out, “am I late?”

I turned, laughing slightly and miming looking at my wristwatch but not really reading the numbers, “I start at seven-thirty sharp, Chief.”

Hopper made a face, checking his own watch and seeing that he was fifteen minutes late, “Jeez,” he rolled his eyes sarcastically.

“You know,” I trailed off, pursing my lips and thinking over something, “I think I can spare another fifteen.”

The corner of Hopper’s lip turned up as he opened his truck and placed his mug on the seat before slamming the door shut. He took a few steps toward me, so I bounced away on the balls of my feet, tilting my head toward the sidewalk.

“Try and keep up,” I teased.

Despite my teasing, I kept the same pace as him since I technically did invite him. He breathed heavily through out the jog and I didn’t blame him one bit. I heard him trying to control his breathing as I talked to him and I immediately felt bad, but he did have the ability to decline the run.

“What did you do this weekend?” he huffed, trying to take slower breaths so he wasn’t breathing so heavily as he talked.

“Uh, just cleaned a lot,” I shook my head, “that trailer was a mess. I’m sorry.” I laughed at his exasperated expression, which soon turned into large puffs of laughter. He started coughing, his throat probably numb from the air which was mixed with his smoking habits that have caused his lungs more years of abuse than mine.

“You don’t have to stay at this pace with me,” he took a shaky breath in and released a painful, growling wheeze.

“I invited you, Hop, it would be rude if I left you,” I nudged his arm with mine playfully.

The Chief slowed down to a walk; the heaving of his shoulders more evident when his entire body wasn’t in motion. He hunched, bracing his hands on his knees with the station just in range for a burst of running. The front and back of his sweatshirt was soaked through with sweat, turning it a darker gray and making it cling to his torso.

“I’ll tell you what, Chief,” I sniffled, cringing as the cold air was having more of an effect on me than I’d like. “Winner to the station buys coffee and donuts today,” I turned to him with a huge grin on my face and my hands on my hips in a challenge.

He turned his head toward me, his mouth parted and breaths huffing gently as he finally got his breathing under control. He pushed off his hands and stood up to his full height with a soft grunt, “Alright, you got a deal.”

He stuck his hand out, which I took and shook firmly. He tilted his head to either side, his neck cracking eerily loud.

“3…” I counted down, dropping into a loose running stance, and watching him do the same, though slightly more tense. “…2.”

Before I could get to “one”, Hopper took off in a sprint. His long legs aided him in creating a large amount of distance between us quickly. I stared as this huge man lumbered down the street as fast as he could go, my jaw dropping in surprise before by brain caught up. I finally broke myself out of my surprise and took off after him, able to catch up because of the academy training. I passed him just as we entered the parking lot, pushing as hard as I could to grab the door first since my arms were shorter than his. I stuck my hand out, ready to grab the door handle when I felt a strong hand grip my wrist and yank me backwards.

“Hey!” I shouted as I stumbled backwards hard enough that Hopper could get in front of me and turn around until his back slammed against the front door of the station. I tried to catch myself before I crashed into him but couldn’t stop my legs fast enough. I caught myself with my hands against his chest, cringing as the glass doors wobbled ominously.

Hopper sucked his lips into his mouth, trying to hold back a smile but failing and laughing out loud. I felt his chest vibrate against my hands and I had to stop myself from staring at the look of amusement all over his face.

“What!?” he chuckled at the incredulous look on my face.

“You cheated!” I slapped his chest softly and pushed myself away from him, forcing Hopper against the door briefly.

“I’m the Chief,” he smirked matter-of-factly. “I’ll, uh, expect my coffee and donuts when I’m dressed.”

Hopper winked and opened the door of the station, sliding inside and leaving me outside by myself.

Around lunch time, I yawned widely and kicked my feet up on my desk to rest my eyes for a bit. It had been another slow day with nothing better to do unless we felt like looking for lost gnomes for the eightieth time this month. I blindly reached for the newspaper from this morning and laid it over my eyes to block some of the sunlight.

As soon as my eyes closed, I felt something hit my arm. I knitted my brows together but ignored it until I heard something land on my desk. I sat up, letting the newspaper fall from my face with an annoyed glare gracing my features. Before I could lay my eyes on anyone, a wad of paper hit me square in the face. I clenched my jaw, seeing Hopper leaning against the wall of the hallway that led to his office.

He silently tilted his head toward the hallway and disappeared. I rolled my eyes, jumping up and following him while straightening out my uniform. I found him sitting on the corner of his desk, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for me. I closed the door behind me and stood awkwardly as I waited for him to speak.

“What are you doing for Christmas?” he asked after an awkward pause, not even looking at me as he asked the question.

“Um…” I trailed off and shrugged, not even knowing myself despite it being in a couple days.

“I assume you’re not going home. Not with how you described things…” he chewed his top lip, scraping his teeth over his moustache briefly.

“Definitely not,” I grimaced.

“Well, uh, no one really comes to the Christmas parties here anymore, plus I have my daughter. I—would you—if you want, you could celebrate with us. My kid, her friends, their parents are all going to my friends’s house. Uh, Joyce, you’ve seen her around I think,” he stumbled repeatedly.

“I don’t know…”

“I just don’t want you to be alone,” his voice evened out and softened, his eyes finally meeting mine. “We’re your family now.”

His soft voice had a strange effect on me, as I stood there in silence. His words meant more because he sounded so sincere compared to his usually loud personality. I felt tears prick the corner of my eyes and made a rash decision to step forward and throw my arms around his shoulders in a tight but brief hug. Hopper was too shocked to do anything but stand there, even as I released him and stepped away from him.

“I’ll be there,” I gave him a small smile. “Just give me the address and, yea, I’ll be there.”

I opened the door and made myself scarce, seeing his contemplative face as I shut the door and plopped myself back at my desk.


End file.
